


Light and Darkness

by dietcokeenthusiast



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Spoilers for chapter 2 of Primrose and Ophilia's stories, spoilers for chapter 3 of Primrose's story (in chapter 2)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-06-15 05:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15406272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dietcokeenthusiast/pseuds/dietcokeenthusiast
Summary: Ophilia has begun to fall for her traveling companion, the dancer Primrose Azelhart. Before she can confess her feelings, though, she'll need to confront her own insecurities, and what helping Primrose on her quest for vengeance may mean for a woman of the Church.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've absolutely fallen in love with Octopath Traveler, and I knew I had to do something with these characters! There's some creative liberties taken with the travel banter from this chapter, but I wanted to still try to get the same ideas across. In any case, enjoy! :)

_It’s a terrible idea._

_It’ll never work._

 

Ophilia couldn’t quite think of the exact scripture that she could cite to support that conclusion, but she was still convinced it was a terrible idea. Unfortunately, it was one of those terrible ideas that stuck around in the back of her mind, and kept popping up at the most inopportune times, like when she was travelling. Or bathing. Or getting ready for bed.

 

The thought, of course, was that Ophilia had developed feelings for her friend and travelling companion, Primrose Azelhart.

 

It had begun as a simple crush, not unlike the one she might have had when she was a young girl at the Cathedral. Primrose was absolutely stunning, and it was all but impossible for Ophilia not to notice. Everything she did, every word she spoke was captivating, and she had laid awake in many an inn smitten with the woman.

 

Rather than subside, though, the feelings only grew with time. Every challenge they met, she would face it head on. She never hesitated to act, making decisions both in and out of battle with a confidence that Ophilia could only dream about. Despite her dogged focus on her goal, though, Primrose also made sure that she looked out for others. There had been more than one occasion when her dagger found a foe that was targeting Ophilia, and in Saintsbridge, she was willing to drop everything to aid Ophilia in helping the children of the city. Her dedication, kind heart, and her beauty made her all but irresistible, and for weeks now Ophilia’s feelings for Primrose were well beyond a crush.

 

It seemed so obvious on the surface that it was a bad idea. The two of them were so completely opposite. Ophilia was a cleric and adopted ward of the Archbishop in Flamesgrace. Her life was one of studying scripture, writing sermons, and assisting the townsfolk. An honest, good living to be sure, but not the most exciting. Primrose, on the other hand, was a dancer. The prized jewel of the tavern in Sunshade, men and even some women came from all around to see her perform.

 

When Ophilia had set out from Flamesgrace, it was to complete her pilgrimage. It was a great honor to be sure, and while her name would be recorded, it wasn’t the kind of thing one wrote epics about. Primrose had taken up the life of a dancer as part of a quest to avenge her father, and set out once his killers had revealed themselves. That was the kind of thing you heard about in the stories. That was the kind of story that the bards would sing about for years. 

 

Ophilia knew she was fair when it came to looks, but she was also certain that no one would be writing any poems or painting any portraits in her honor. She had a tendency to be somewhat clumsy, and awkward when attempting that required more coordination than carrying scrolls from one part of the Cathedral to the other. Primrose’s beauty was practically divine, on another level entirely. She had seen for herself the way a single wink and a smile could bring a man to his knees. She had seen the way women would stare at her with envy, and occasionally with desire. Every movement was like the flow of a river; smooth, fluid, and achingly beautiful.

 

Clearly, the two of them were not meant to be.

 

So why was it that there was still a voice in her head trying to convince her that it made more sense than she realized?

 

There was certainly nothing forbidding it. She took no vows of celibacy, and though uncommon, there were women in Orsterra that had relationships with other women. Scripture had no rule against it. She had also sworn that she recalled Primrose mentioning that she preferred the women who came to see her dance, even if it was in large part because they behaved themselves better than the men.

 

It was possible. Definitely possible. Still, something within her was certain it was a bad idea. It-

 

“Ophilia?”

 

The sound of Primrose’s voice snapped Ophilia out of her thoughts. She soon remembered that the two of them had been in the midst of a conversation in the tavern, and that she had no idea how long she had been sitting there completely lost in her own head. “Sorry! I was just…. Distracted!”

 

Primrose raised an eyebrow. “Was it my legs again?”

 

Ophilia turned beet red, remembering how Primrose had caught her staring back in Saintsbridge. “N-no! I promise I’m not doing that!”

 

“Not doing that again, you mean,” Primrose teased, a soft smile on her face.

 

Primrose’s words left Ophilia unable to do anything but make a small embarrassed noise, and her smile left her with a warm feeling in her chest. Whenever Primrose smiled, as far as Ophilia was concerned she might as well have been looking at the Sacred Flame itself.

 

Primrose went on in the same teasing tone and with the same smile.“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you perhaps need to go outside to cool down?”

 

Ophilia cleared her throat,  “I’m okay, really!” She cleared her throat again, and sat up a bit straighter in her chair, thinking a change of subject might help her regain some level of composure. “So, you and Arianna… this was a reunion for you?”

 

“It was,” Primrose replied, her tone turning a bit softer and more serious, the way she usually spoke. “I’m happy to see her again, and I’m happy that she’s alive. I just wish she didn’t have to be in such a situation to stay alive.”

 

Ophilia nodded, the blush finally starting to fade as she regained control of herself. “I know… it’s so awful that so many out there would take advantage of someone who just needs to be able to afford a meal and a roof over their heads.” She was quiet for a moment. “Do you think it’s true what she suggested? About why the brothel is so close to Flamesgrace?”

 

“Would it surprise you if it was true?” Primrose was rather matter-of-fact about the question. “Anyone can claim to be virtuous or make themselves look they’re virtuous, even when they’re not.”

 

“I know,” she frowned. “It doesn’t surprise me either, truthfully. Most of the others in the church I’ve known to be so wonderful. I could never imagine that any would participate in something like that.” She stopped to consider her next words a moment. “Perhaps I should say that I never wanted to imagine it.”

 

“That’s understandable,” Primrose replied, making eye contact as she spoke her next words. “If only all of the church could live up to the example some of its members set.”

 

“If only…” Ophilia nodded, remaining completely oblivious to Primrose’s compliment. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened to Arianna. And to you as well.”

 

“You don’t need to be, truly.” Her smile returned, as she reached across the table to take Ophilia’s hand. “You’ve faced your share of hardships yourself, as you’ve told me.”

 

Ophilia’s heart raced as she felt the touch of Primrose’s hand. It was somehow even softer to the touch than she had imagined it being, and her grip was firm yet caring. She only briefly glanced down at it, lest she get caught staring like an idiot at her long, delicate fingers. “I have, but-”

 

Primrose shook her head. “So then we’re not so different. We’ve both had our losses and and our problems, but we’ve both made it through them. We’re both able to travel together, share about ourselves, and sit here together in this tavern. That’s something we should be rejoicing about and celebrating, instead of feeling sorry for each other.”

 

Ophilia nodded, and blushed faintly. She was reminded why she had started to fall for the dancer in the first place. Even moreso than her beauty.

 

It was her strength.

 

 “Primrose… how do you do it?”

 

She raised an eyebrow once more. “What do you mean?”

 

“You’re so strong, Primrose. After everything you’ve been through, you don’t let a single thing stop you. You keep pushing on, no matter what, You even still find things worth celebrating. I think of how I was when I lost my parents and I… I…” She averted her eyes for a moment. “I don’t think I ever could be as strong as you…”

 

Primrose looked almost offended at Ophilia’s last comment, holding onto her hand with both of hers. “Don’t speak of yourself like that. The dedication you have to your faith, to your family, to your journey is admirable. Just being around you is enough to bolster my courage, and there’s none I would rather have at my side in a battle.” She smiled a bit wider still, but there was the faintest hint of sadness in her eyes. “You’re the kind of woman people aspire to be, Ophilia.”

 

Ophilia was about to speak and felt her voice catch in her throat. She had heard the praise of others before, but to hear something like this, and from _Primrose_ of all people was something else entirely. It was in that moment that suddenly, _it_ didn’t seem like such a bad idea. While there were doubts, and the feeling that something was amiss in the back of their mind, here the two were talking freely, sharing their feelings, and Primrose had just expressed how highly she thought of Ophilia. It didn’t hurt that the torchlight of the tavern complemented Primrose’s beauty in all the right ways. Ophilia’s eyes glanced down at her rose-colored lips before looking back into her deep brown eyes. Weeks of longing looks and wistful thoughts were all building up to this moment. She wasn’t certain there would ever be a good time, but now seemed as good a time as any.

 

She took a breath. “Primrose, I-”

 

“Lady Primrose!”

 

Ophilia very nearly cursed as the voice of Arianna interrupted the proceedings. _By the Flame, why now?!_

 

Primrose glanced over to Arianna, letting go of Ophilia’s hand. Already Ophilia was missing the contact. “What is it, Arianna?” Primrose asked.

 

“The carriage is here. You and your companions are ready for the trip?”

 

“Yes.. We’ve just been waiting for word from you. We’re ready to leave as soon as possible,” said Primrose, standing up from the table. “Lead the way to the meeting place, Arianna.”

Ophilia sighed, getting up from the table as well. The moment had been so perfect, and she doubted she’d get another one like it once they were finished. On top of all that, there was still that uneasy feeling. The feeling that even if she was becoming convinced this wasn’t such a bad idea, there was something she wasn’t considering.

 

Whatever it was would have to wait until after their business, though. She followed Primrose and Arianna out into the snow.

\---

 

In the Obsidian Parlor, Ophilia came to a realization.

 

She had tried to consider what it was that was troubling her about the idea of confessing to Primrose. It certainly wasn’t her past or career. Even the darkness in Primrose that showed itself in battle didn’t trouble Ophilia. For what the woman had to endure, she had every right claim it as her own.

 

What frightened her, what really troubled her, was how Primrose brought out the darkness in her.

 

That day in the desert, when she and the others had aided Primrose against Helgenish and his men, she could still see so vividly how Primrose had cut him deep, and left him bleeding in the sand. She could recall his cries, and the looks of disdain H’aanit and Olberic had given him. She could see the desperate look in his eyes as he looked to her, no doubt expecting mercy from a woman of the church.

 

Above all else, though, she remembered that she had simply looked away and whispered: “May the Flame watch over you.”

 

What bothered her even more than that was she didn’t regret it for a moment. For all she had been taught about showing kindness and aiding even the most debased and most wicked of the world, all Ophilia could think of in that moment was the bruises Helgenish left on Primrose’s skin, the horrors that the dancer had related to her, and how she had been too late to save Yusufa from his brutality. Had he survived, he would have continued to hurt so many others. The end he met was the least he deserved.

 

It frightened Ophilia how easily she had come to believe that.

 

Now, after a furious battle in the Obsidian Parlor, crossing blades with the Left Wing of the Crow, she stood over the body of Rufus. She had done it again. She had witnessed the man be mortally wounded, yet instead of aiding him so he might repent or face trial, she stood back and thought of Primrose’s father, Arianna, and the countless girls that had been sold and abused right under the shadow of the Cathedral. Once again, though her decision troubled her, she knew she could relive the confrontation again and again and each time choose to let him die.

 

She then came to a second realization; none of this did anything to quell the fire within her. Even though she was finally able to articulate to herself what felt wrong, her feelings were still as strong as ever. Whatever misgivings she had about what Primrose had changed or awakened in her, there was absolutely no denying that it didn’t change just how deeply Ophilia had come to care for her. If anything, she understood her moreso.

 

Now, in that moment, those feelings were the most important thing. Primrose was still and silent after the deed was done, and Ophilia was unable to shake the feeling that something was amiss. She had to check in with her. “Primrose…?”

 

“Yes?” She turned to look at Ophilia, her expression blank, save for a look of grim determination in her eyes.

 

“Um, are you okay?” Ophilia approached Primrose, a look of concern in her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to take Primrose into her arms right then and there to comfort her, but gave her space instead.

 

“I’ve been worse. As always, your healing keeps us all in good shape.” She smiled slightly.

 

“Thanks, but I meant, well, _you_ , Primrose. I imagine it must be difficult to go through with this. Even if it was a man like Rufus…”

 

The smile fell from her face. “I did what I needed to do. How I’m feeling doesn’t matter.”

 

Ophilia frowned. The blunt rejection of her concern not only worried her moreso, but stung more than she wanted to acknowledge. “But-”

 

“I beggen thy pardon for the interruption,” H’aanit said, “but we oughten to make our way to safety with haste. I am certain someone will seeketh out Rufus before long.”

 

“She’s right,” Olberic added. “I doubt any they send could stand against us, but it’d be pointless to stay and see.”

 

Ophilia sighed, and nodded. They were right, of course, even if she was worried about Primrose. Still, they would have the chance to talk once they were back in Stillsnow, and it’d be safer for them to do so as long as no one else got a chance to see their faces. “Let’s go.”

 

Primrose just nodded in agreement. With that, the adventurers hurried out of the chamber, making their way quickly to the secret passage. All the while, the near-expressionless look that Primrose had given her stuck with Ophilia.

 

\---

 

Primrose had been silent on the way back to Stillsnow. Worryingly so. Some of it was understandable. Primrose wasn’t exactly all smiles after Helgenish had been killed, and regardless of whether Rufus deserved his fate or not, it was still that same grim work. Still, after Helgenish’s death Ophilia could see a weight lifted off of Primrose’s shoulders; perhaps her goal finally revealing itself, or the fact she no longer needed to tolerate that monster’s abuses. Now, even though Primrose had accomplished part of her goal, she seemed more burdened than ever. Her expression had hardly changed since Rufus fell, and it had taken the three of them no small effort to convince her to get an inn for the night rather than charge straight for Noblecourt.

 

She again said next to nothing as the four retired to their rooms. Ophilia did her best to focus on her nightly routine, changing into her nightgown and sitting down for a quick reading of scripture. For about an hour, she tried to keep her mind on what she was to learn from Aelfric, how she was expected to live those lessons out in her own life, and the example she was to set for others. Ever since she had taken up the life of a cleric, that had always been something that she could think back to and focus on when she felt lost, troubled, or confused. Despite her best efforts, though, she couldn’t keep her focus on the familiar words. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Primrose, though, and that near-expressionless look she had worn since the battle.

 

_She needs time to be alone._

 

Ophilia sighed.

 

 _You’ll just end up making things worse_.

 

She closed her book and got up out of the bed, putting on her slippers.

 

 _It’s a terrible idea_.

 

She left her room, and started down the hall to Primrose’s. Whatever doubts she had in her mind, they could wait. It was in her nature to want to care for others, and while that would have been the same no matter her feelings for Primrose, it made it feel all the more urgent.

 

She knocked on the door.

 

Silence.

 

She knocked once again. “Um, Primrose? It’s me, Ophilia.”

 

A silence passed, long enough that Ophilia was just about to return to her room, when Primrose opened the door. “Hello, Ophilia.”

 

She tried very hard not to get too distracted by how Primrose looked. Her beautiful, wavy brown locks were down, cascading messily over her shoulders. Her nightgown was hardly more revealing than her usual outfit, but there was a sort of intimacy in the fact that she was letting herself be seen in it by Ophilia that she couldn’t ignore. Nevertheless, she ignored the faint heat in her cheeks and the pit of her stomach. “G-good evening Primrose.” She smiled warmly, only to stand there like a complete fool for the next few moments. _How do I even bring up my concern after what she said before?_

 

Primrose blinked. “Ophilia? Can I help you?”

 

The blush deepened a bit. _Say something!_ “Actually, I-I was more wondering if I could help you. It’s seemed like something was troubling you ever since the brothel.”

 

Primrose shook her head. “I told you, it doesn’t matter. It’s about me doing what needed to be done. Nothing else.”

 

“Well, it matters to me!” Ophilia replied, surprising herself with how forward she was being. “You’re a...friend… and I care about what’s happening with you. I thought you might want someone to talk to. Or just to be around.”

 

There was another period of silence, before Primrose let out a sigh, stepping back from the doorway. “Come in, dear.”

 

Ophilia gave Primrose a smile as she walked into the room. There was practically nothing special about it compared to her own room; same painting on the wall, same furs on the bed, same simple table in the corner. The only difference was the faint hint of vanilla from her perfume that filled Ophilia’s nostrils. She’d come to adore that scent.

 

“Make yourself comfortable,” said Primrose, sitting down at the foot of the bed and crossing her legs.

 

Ophilia nodded, and pulled out a chair from the table, sitting across from her. “Thank you.”

 

Primrose nodded, “So, I know you’ve been concerned about me. You said as much back when I had slain Rufus.”

 

“That’s right,” Ophilia replied softly. “It just seems like there’s been something troubling you. I mean, moreso than usual. I mean, not that you always seem troubled…” She already wanted to slap herself for being so clumsy with her words. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

 

Primrose nodded. Her expression remained inscrutable. “I understand, Ophilia. I suppose I have been wearing my troubles on my sleeve. I’m sorry for that, and for snapping at you back at the Obsidian Parlor. Truly, I am. I want you to know, though, that this isn’t going to affect me on our journey. My goal is still to avenge my father, but I still plan to walk with you on your pilgrimage and fight at your side. I promise whatever I’m feeling won’t affect that or put you and the others in danger.”

 

“I know it won’t,” Ophilia replied quickly. “I trust you, Primrose. Completely.” Ophilia noticed a slight change in Primrose’s expression as she said those words. “That’s not what I mean, though.” She leaned forward in her chair a bit. “I’m not worried about whether your feelings will affect our journey. I’m worried about how they’re affecting _you_.” A pleading tone began to creep in Ophilia’s voice. “You don’t even have to talk to me, but I want you to know that I…” she took a breath. “That I care.”

 

Primrose averted her gaze, and a long silence followed. Fear had grabbed onto Ophilia. Had she said the wrong thing? Made things even worse than they were before?

 

“...I spoke with Arianna, before we retired.”

 

Ophilia nodded. “Is she well?”

 

“She is. She thanked me for freeing her, and asked me to thank you and the others as well. Then, she asked me a question.” Primrose hiked up her nightgown slightly. Attached to a garter was a scabbard, and her dagger, which she proceeded to unsheathe. “Have I ever told you my house’s words. Ophilia?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“‘Faith will be your shield…’ my father taught those words to me, and they’re etched upon me just as deeply as they are on this dagger,” said Primrose, holding it up for Ophilia to see. Sure enough, even in the dim light of the room, the words were clearly visible. “He told me it was about being dedicated to your convictions, believing you’re doing the right thing, no matter what.”

 

“Those are noble words to live by,” Ophilia replied. “Ever since I was a little girl, it was faith that was always there to protect me. It took me time to grow that faith, but whenever I was in trouble, or things felt like they just didn’t make sense, I could turn to my faith in Aelfric, or even my faith in Lianna and His Excellency. It always gave me a sense of purpose. A sense of belonging.I think there was a lot of wisdom in what your father taught you.” She smiled, hoping that maybe that could help to cheer Primrose.

 

A slight smile crossed Primrose’s face, but her eyes were full of sadness. She placed the dagger back in the scabbard. “That faith is something so beautiful in you, Ophilia. Still… you know what you have faith in. You know what you strive towards. Me…” Primrose took a deep breath, and for a moment Ophilia could swear she could hear her voice waver for just a moment. “Arianna asked me what I have faith in. The truth is… I don’t know. I know that the men who killed my father must die, and that I must see that through to the end no matter the cost, but beyond that, I don’t have a damned clue.” She let out a short, humorless laugh. “My house is still fallen, and I have abandoned any other pursuit I might have had, all to devote my entire life to the mere chance of vengeance. I have no idea what could possibly await me when that finally comes to an end. Truly, what _could_ I even do?”

 

“Primrose…” Ophilia’s voice was soft as she fought against her nerves, rose from the chair and moved to sit beside her at the foot of the bed. Taking a deep breath for courage, she moved to take Primrose’s hand, much the way she had taken hers earlier. “Maybe you don’t know what your purpose will be, but maybe you don’t need to. Maybe right now all you need to know is that there’s more than vengeance that you can have faith in.”

 

Primrose gave her a strange look, but didn’t try to pull her hand away. “Trying to dissuade me? Whatever your church teaches, I-”

 

“No,” Ophilia replied firmly. “I’m not trying to dissuade you. I’m not trying to judge you. If anything…” she swallowed. Was she really ready to give voice to the thing inside her she feared most? “Y-you’ve made me realize that while some might see a path as dark… sometimes that’s the path you need to walk.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Helgenish and Rufus… I…” She steadied herself. “I can’t d-deny the world is better off without them. For what they did to so many people, a-and what they did to you…” She nearly winced. Even thinking about Primrose being hurt gave her a terrible feeling, but it made her all the more convinced of her words. “I don’t know what I would do in your shoes… I don’t know that I’d ever want to know. B-but I think you did the right thing, and that you’re still doing the right thing.”

 

Primrose looked genuinely surprised, and almost grateful. She gave Ophilia’s hand a bit of a squeeze. “Thank you, Ophilia. Truly.”

 

Ophilia took a breath. She still wasn’t sure she had, or could ever fully accept this side of herself, but she had meant what she said to Primrose. “So… when I say you can have faith in more than vengeance, it’s not because I’m trying to stop you. It’s because… because…” She could feel her voice catch in her throat just like it had before. It was yet another difference between them. Primrose could speak so clearly about what she felt about others, yet here Ophilia was, barely able to finish your thought.

 

It was then she felt her hand squeezed once more. “Take your time,” she reassured her.

 

Ophilia took one last deep breath. If she was going to speak, she had to speak now. “W-what I mean is that you’re incredible, Primrose! Your strength, your willingness to do whatever you have to do to accomplish your goals, the care you show for others despite the way that the world’s treated you, the way you persevere no matter the odds, it’s all just so incredible. I know you’re worried about what you can have faith in and strive towards when this is all done, but I know that you’d be capable of anything you desired!” She was grasping on to Primrose’s hand with both of hers now. “What you said about how I help you feel courageous… well, I feel the same way. I know that if I can be even just a little bit as strong as you are, then things will be okay. You’re strong, dedicated, beautiful, smart, and that’s why I… I…” she cleared her throat. “Um, I look up to you.”

 

Primrose’s expression had softened entirely. She looked upon Ophilia now with kindness, affection… adoration, even. Just that look on its own was enough to make her knees shake. When she lifted her hand to caress her cheek, Ophilia was certain she might just die at any moment. “Ophilia… as kind as those words are, I can tell there’s something else in your heart you’re holding back. If you’re comfortable, it would please me to hear it.”

 

At this point Ophilia was certain this must be some sort of dream. Her cheek burned where Primrose had touched her. Once again, Ophilia’s eyes glanced down at her rose-colored lips before looking back into her deep brown eyes. For once, the voice telling her that this was a bad idea was silent. “Primrose, you know that I care about you. What you might not know is that I think I care about you as more than a friend… That’s why I worry so much. Why I want you to know there’s more you can do once you avenge your father. I have feelings for you, and I have for a while now.”

 

For the first time since the Parlor, Primrose smiled genuinely. That smile that set Ophilia’s stomach aflutter and her heart aflame. That smile so similar to, yet bearing so much more warmth than the one she flashed to those who watched her dance. “Oh Ophilia, I was wondering when you were going to say something.”

 

Ophilia audibly gasped. “Y-you… you knew?!”

 

Primrose laughed. “Of course I knew. I know the look people give when they desire me. I also know the look when that desire runs deeper than how I look.” Her hand moved from Ophilia’s cheek to her shoulder, her fingers playing with strands of Ophilia’s blonde hair.

 

“I w-was that obvious?!” She regretted the question as soon as she asked it. Of course it was. She could be a bit awkward at the best of times, and it was so much worse when it came to romance. “Well… well it’s out there now. So-”

 

“Ophilia,” Primrose cut her off, her voice confident yet soft. “You know I’ve told you just what I think about you, but just like you, I must confess my feelings have run deeper than that, and have for some time. Anyone could see just how pretty you were the moment you walked into Sunshade, but then in Saintsbridge, it became something more. Your devotion to your journey was clear, but seeing how far you would go to help reconcile two children you never even knew, how the kindness in your heart pushed you to risk your life to protect them… it reminded me that there were truly good people in this world.” She sighed. “Truthfully, I never imagined you could feel the same about me.”

 

Ophilia’s eyes went wide. “You must be joking! I’m just some sheltered Cleric from Flamesgrace. I’m not-”

 

“I’m not interested in what you aren’t,” Primrose interrupted again, letting go of Ophilia’s hand to place a finger on her lips. “I am interested in who you are, which just so you know, is far more than just some sheltered Cleric from Flamesgrace. Now…” she flashed that wink of hers, and Ophilia very nearly fainted. “May I kiss you, Ophilia?”

 

Ophilia was frozen. Her throat was dry, she didn’t even want to think about how red her cheeks must be, and that feeling of warmth in the pit of her stomach was stronger than ever. Somehow, in just above a whisper, she managed to force out “yes.”

 

Seconds later, Ophilia was having the first kiss of her life, and it was with the most amazing woman she ever could have imagined. Thankfully, Primrose seemed to pick up on Ophilia’s lack of experience, kissing her softly with only the slightest brush of her tongue against her lips, draping her arms around her neck. Even so Ophilia was nearly overwhelmed by the softness of her lips, the tenderness of her touch, and the sweetness of her scent. She did her best to follow Primrose’s lead, occasionally moving her lips against hers and placing her hands on either side of her waist. She was every bit as soft and precious as Ophilia had dreamed. Her heart raced faster and faster with every moment her lips were against Primrose’s, and just when she feared her heart might give out, Primrose finally pulled away. The look she gave Ophilia was tinged with affection, desire, and pure joy. “You kiss far better than I’d expect one of your order to,” she teased.

 

“I… um… t-thank… wow…” Ophilia was barely coherent, trying to get words out between her giggles. The kiss was everything she had dreamed and then some. Her skin tingled, and she wasn’t sure her heartbeat would ever return to normal.

 

“Of course, you can still use some practice though…”

 

Ophilia was happy to comply, leaning in and kissing her in the same way she had been kissed. It was still somewhat clumsy, but she had more of a sense of confidence than before. She felt a jolt throughout her body as their tongues brushed against each other, and soon traced a hand up to run her fingers through wavy brown tresses. She would be the one to break the kiss this time, only doing so when she was in desperate need of air. The two of them were left nearly breathless. “S-still pretty good for a Sister?”

 

“Yes…” Primrose gasped, giggling a bit. “And getting better.”

 

Ophilia was positively beaming, and pulled herself close to Primrose to savor her presence and warmth. Her arms wrapped around her tightly, and she rested her cheek against Primrose’s. She spoke just above a whisper into her ear. “You were right, Primrose. Us being together is something worth rejoicing for. Even more now.”

 

“Even more now,” she murmured in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of Ophilia’s neck. Ophilia giggled softly, feeling somewhat ticklish there. “I’d like to ask you something, if I might.”

 

“O-of course you can. What is it, Primrose?”

 

“Would you stay with me, tonight?” Almost as soon as the let the question hang, she spoke again. “I don’t mean pushing things further. I don’t want you to go faster than you’re ready for, and I think I might like to take my time myself. I know I wouldn’t mind the company, though. I’m certain you wouldn’t mind either.”

 

Ophilia nodded. She was practically trembling with anticipation. “I-I wouldn’t… I’ll gladly s-stay with you.”

 

With that, Ophilia caught a glimpse of Primrose’s smile as she tugged her down onto the bed. She was all too willing to allow herself to be pulled down, draping an arm over Primrose’s waist as the two lay in bed facing each other. Ophilia didn’t think she had ever seen a more beautiful sight than Primrose’s affectionate gaze, and what a sweet blessing it was for that look to be directed at her. The next little while, no words were exchanged between the two, and none needed to be. The two shared nuzzles and more kisses, taking turns to pull the other one close and cuddle them closely. Ophilia let herself be lost in the affection, savoring every bit of attention lavished on her and showering Primrose with her own.

 

The two would carry on until Ophilia’s eyes grew heavy, barely able to keep them open. “Mmm… Primrose?”

 

“Yes, dear?”

 

“I think I’m getting sleepy… but I don’t want to stop either.”

 

Chuckling softly, Primrose shifted to lay behind Ophilia, hugging her around the waist. She planted a soft kiss on the top of Ophilia’s shoulder. “How’s this? Comfortable?”

 

“Very comfortable…” Ophilia replied drowsily, placing her hands over Primrose’s and sighing happily. She could feel all of Primrose’s body pressed against her, and savored it.  She was blissful, and certain there was no way her confession could have worked out any better. Still, there was one more thing she needed to know. “Primrose?”

 

“Yes, dear?”

 

“How are you feeling now? Was I able to help with your troubles at all?”

 

“Of course. You’ve unquestionably helped me feel somewhat better.”

 

That word stuck out in Ophilia’s mind. Somewhat. _Did I do something wrong? Did I not go as far as I should have?_ She had to ask. “Just somewhat?”

 

A brief silence passed before she felt Primrose squeeze her gently. “Yes. Somewhat. As happy as tonight has made me, the question Arianna asked me still haunts me. My past still weighs on me. I still haven’t forgotten my goal, or what it will take to accomplish it.”

 

Ophilia frowned, even though she knew Primrose was unable to see it. “I’m sorry…”

 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Not even your best blessing can heal all wounds and answer all questions. I never expected it to, though.” Ophilia felt Primrose’s lips on her shoulder once more. “If we’re to journey forth together as more than just travelling companions, then you need to understand that. Having you near won’t fix everything.” Another soothing kiss. “With that said, it’s made the burden a bit lighter, made me feel more capable of lifting it, and perhaps given me a bit of a light to walk towards. If you can be that light for me, that’s enough.”

 

Ophilia nodded, and thought on Primrose’s words. Part of her was still troubled by the fact that she couldn’t do more. At the same time, if it could be enough for Primrose, perhaps she could learn for it to be enough for her. “Then you have that, Primrose.”

 

“Good…” She leaned over to give Ophilia a kiss on the cheek. “For now, let’s get some rest. We still have quite the journey ahead of us, and quite the news to tell the others.”

 

“You’re right…” Ophilia yawned. With the wave of contentment that washed over her, she knew she would rest well tonight. Even the idea of telling the others about them wasn’t enough to  break the feeling of peace she felt. “Good night, Primrose.”

 

“Good night, Ophilia.”


	2. Old and New Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the party arrives in Noblecourt, an old flame of Primrose's casts her relationship with Ophilia into uncertainty. Ophilia's jealousy becomes the least of her worries, however, when tragedy strikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! For a long time, I wanted to explore how a relationship between Primrose and Ophilia might be affected by Primrose's past feelings for Simeon, and their reunion. I hope you enjoy. :)

H’aanit eyed Ophilia carefully. She took a long drink from her ale, and then began to speak. “Ophilia, does thou feel right?”

 

Ophilia blinked, and put on the best smile that she could manage. “Of course I am, H’aanit. Why would I not feel right?”

 

“Well,” H’aanit began, “thou hast ordered two goblets of wine already, and by the way thine hand moveth, it appearest thou may seeken a third.” Another drink of her ale. “I don’t recalleth a night you indulged in more than one.”

 

Ophilia felt herself stiffen somewhat. “I’m just thirsty. That’s all.” She kept up her forced smile. “It’s so warm here compared to Flamesgrace, so I want to make sure I drink plenty of fluids!”

 

“Thirsty. Right…” Therion chuckled as he cut in to the conversation, leaning on the bar and standing on the other side of Ophilia. “Sure it’s not that gardener Primrose was getting all swoony for? Handsome, charming, silver h- OW!” He whipped around as he felt something strike him in the back of the head, rubbing it. “What was that for?!”

 

“Being a jerk!” Tressa called out from the table. “Give Phili a break, would you?”

 

Therion grumbled, until he glanced at the ground and picked up a coin. “Hey, thanks Tressa!”

 

“That wasn’t supposed to be a reward!” She huffed.

 

“Then don’t throw money!” Therion fired back, heading back over to the table and leaving Ophilia and H’aanit once more. Ophilia had remained silent throughout the exchange, her grip on her drink tightening just enough to be noticeable. She felt a sting not unlike the one she felt when Simeon had first taken Primrose’s hand.

 

“...rude interruption aside, I believeth that the thief has the right of it?” H’aanit asked. “That it is Simeon which troubles thee?”

 

Ophilia sighed, shifting uncomfortably in her stool. She would briefly meet H’aanit’s gaze, only to quickly avert her eyes once again. She had felt completely ashamed of herself in that moment. She knew, though, that there was no hiding anything from the huntress’ keen eye. “Yes… it’s Simeon.”

 

She thought back to when the group had arrived in Noblecourt, following the trail of another of the men responsible for the death of Primrose’s father. Despite the dark work, Ophilia had hope that the might have the chance to learn more of Primrose, and where she grew up. That the experience might bring the two of them together, and help their budding relationship grow.

 

Yet all that changed with Simeon.

As soon as Primrose had laid eyes upon her childhood friend, she seemed completely captivated. Her expression and body language had softened, and she seemed to hang on his every word. Bearing witness to their conversations had proven to be trying for Ophilia, as she struggled to keep up her patient, kind demeanor. Yet when the two went to catch up on their own, even the reassurance Primrose would return couldn’t stop her mind from concocting all sorts of scenarios.

 

So having little luck with prayer in her room, she joined the others in the tavern, hoping to drown her thoughts. It seemed even that would be no escape, however. Especially not with H’aanit.

 

H’aanit’s expression neutral and free of any judgment. “What exactly concerneth thee about Simeon? Does thou worryeth that Primrose may stray from thy side?”

 

“No!” Ophilia blurted, shaking her head vigorously. “I’d never assume that of Primrose.”

 

“Then why the concern?” H’aanit asked, once again watching Ophilia intently.

 

It made Ophilia very aware of herself to be watched so closely. She wasn’t certain she liked the feeling. “It bothers me because…well…” she paused to finish her glass of wine, hoping it might help give her courage. “Therion’s right. He’s handsome. He’s charming. Even in that short meeting I could see he had a gift for words… they’re all things I’m not and that I don’t have.” Sh sighed. “I’m so clumsy and foolish, even at the best of times. Then, seeing the way they looked at each other, even after so many years apart… I may not know a lot when it comes to matters of the heart, but even I could tell that there was something there. Just in the way she looked at him. I care about Primrose, and want her to be happy no matter what, and I know Aelfric calls on us to avoid being covetous… but it hurt so much that I wasn’t the one making her feel that way.” Ophilia could hear her voice crack a bit. She nearly cursed herself for it.

 

H’aanit simply nodded, and gave Ophilia a sympathetic look. “I see. Thou art certain of this conclusion, then? That her heart truly lieth with Simeon, and not thee?”

 

Ophilia couldn’t bring herself to nod or acknowledge the possibility with her voice. As though giving words to it would make it all the more real, and she was unprepared to face that reality just yet.She didn’t want to think that the way their relationship had grown could be completely undone by a few words and a glance from Primrose’s past. She looked down, and tried her best to fight back the tears that threatened to spill forth if she were to truly acknowledge the possibility. “H’aanit, y-you’ve got the sharpest eyes of anyone here… surely you can see what’s going on here.”

 

“Second only to mine master,” she replied, finishing her mug. “Art thou prepared to hear the truth?”

 

Ophilia flinched at the words.  _ It’s true… oh by the flame it’s true… _ It took all of her strength to muster even a slight nod.

 

“The truth is that I had seen that something did sparketh in Primrose’s heart in her reunion. It would supriseth me little if it were the ember of an olde flame. However,” she added the last word sharply, as if to pre-emptively cut off a reaction from Ophilia. “I did also seen that same spark in the look she given to you, ‘fore she was led away.”

 

Ophilia looked up, her mouth practically hanging open with surprise. “S-she looked to me?!”

 

“Aye. Thine gaze was already turned away, however. ‘Twas not the first I’ve seen such a look in her eye, though. Surely thou must know she gazen upon you with the same warmth?”

 

Ophilia flinched once again, this time from guilt. “S-so I’m wrong?”

 

“‘Tis not for me to say, friend,” H’aanit replied. “Thou must converse and know the truth from Primrose thyself. You and her both deserven the chance to share thine feelings with another, and knowest where the other standen.”

 

“But what if I only make things worse?” Ophilia asked quickly. “I was already so quick to be jealous and assume that she must want to be with Simeon instead of me. I’ve been such a fool… letting my emotions get the better of me…”

 

She then felt H’aanit’s hand on her shoulder. “Ophilia, thou musn’t curse thyself for thine emotions. Might I sharen something with thee?”

 

Ophilia took a breath to calm herself down, and nodded.

 

“When one is on the hunt, there are many things one must be. They must be deliberate, every move carefully thoughten out before one maketh it. They must be patient, and knowest they must waiten on the perfect moment to strike their prey. They must be perseverent, and standeth stoically against any danger which awaiten them. The slightest mistake may mean that the law of the forest will claimeth thee instead of thy quarry.” She removed her hand from Ophilia’s shoulder, and folded them in her lap. “So telleth me, given this, what does thou assume runneth through the mind of a hunter?”

 

Ophilia took a moment to consider her response before replying. “Calmness? Peace?”

 

H’aanit shook her head. “That is what we striven towards, yes. In truth, what cometh into our heads does not so differ from that which cometh into the head of any other. Fear, excitement, pride… all such feelings that comen to the hunter.”

 

“Aren’t those all things you would have to overcome, though?”

 

“Not as you may thinketh,” H’aanit smiled. “Such emotions are precious to a hunter, so long as they do not rulest over them. Fear may maketh one into a coward incapable of acting, but it also protecteth one from beginning a quarrel they may be unable to finish. Excitement may blindeth one to the dangers ahead of them, but from it comes the thrill of the hunt that driveth us forward. Pride may maketh one weak with arrogance, but confidence in one’s abilities is necessary to accomplish thy goals.” She then gestured to Ophilia. “So it goes with Primrose and thee. Thy jealousy, as any feeling, existen for a reason. If it rule over thee, it may drive thee to be bitter, tyrannical, and driveth Primrose away. If it does not, perhaps it may inspire thee to express the depth of thy caring to her.”

 

Ophilia took a deep breath, and nodded. “Thank you, H’aanit. I d-don’t know how much better i feel about Simeon… b-but I know I don’t need to panic or give up. So thank you.”

 

H’aanit smiled, and placed a calloused hand on Ophilia’s shoulder. “Thou art most welcome, friend.”

 

Ophilia glanced to the third glass of wine on the counter, and decided to leave it. Whatever awaited the two of them, she felt more prepared for it.

 

A short time later, Primrose would enter the tavern. Her cheeks glowed faintly, and by Ophilia’s estimation, while her expression bore the same determination it often did, there was a certain joy and exhiliration in her eyes. One which seemed to match the look she had in their moments together. One that gave her a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

 

“Hey Primrose,” Therion called out from the table. “Have a good time with Simeon?”

 

“I did. It was wonderful to be able to catch up and just spend time with him,” she replied. Her smile was warm and sincere; a rare occurrence for Primrose. “I nearly forgot just how beautiful he made those gardens. And his poems… Gods, his poems. Just the way I remember them back when I was a girl.”

 

Ophilia winced, the words like a dagger in her heart that seemed to undo all of the good H’aanit’s talk with her had done in one fell swoop.

 

She heard Primrose’s voice again. “My apologies for interrupting, but as it happens, I know now where the next of the men is. The sooner we strike, the less chance he has to prepare.”

 

“Then let’s hit this creep hard before he figures out what he’s got coming to him! I’m in!” Tressa leapt up from her table.

 

“Thanks, Tressa. Olberic already volunteered, so I need just one-”

 

Ophilia rose from her seat. “M-me too.” She found herself unable to meet Primrose’s gaze. An uncomfortable silence seemed to settle over them, and while it lasted nearly a minute, it felt much longer.

 

“All right… to my manor then?”

 

Ophilia nodded and let the others leave first before heading to the door. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Ophilia.”

 

She took a deep breath, and looked up to see Primrose, deep concern in her expression. With what she was sure was happening, it felt almost like a taunt. “Y-yes?”

 

“Are you okay? I know you struggle with what we do, sometimes, but this seems worse.” Primrose frowned and stepped closer. “If you need to rest or turn away, I can ask Alfyn if he can join us.”

 

“I’m fine,” Ophilia replied quickly, pulling away from her touch. “Let’s get this dealt with.”

 

There was a look of hurt on Primrose’s face that Ophilia was entirely unaccustomed to seeing. It would not take long to pass, however. “Very well. Let us.”   
  
Primrose would set out abruptly, her movements ever so slightly jerkier than normal. Ophilia was left with her thoughts as she followed behind.

\---

 

Once again, Primrose was successful in her work, Magus the latest to fall to her dagger. Ophilia could never truly say she was used to it, but she had made some modicum of peace with it. Magus was yet another who the world would be better off without. It had seemed Primrose had been struggling, however. The same expression consumed her face as in the parlor, and this time she had insisted that she have some time alone, and so they decided to wait for her in the main hall. A rather ignoble thought about Primrose and Simeon crossed Ophilia’s mind, but she did her best to fight it off.

 

As time passed, though, Primrose’s absence was felt more and more. Ophilia knew Primrose needed space at times, but given the circumstances the length was suspicious. Her mind couldn’t help but revisit that thought of her and Simeon.

 

Tressa studied Ophilia, giving a sad look as she seemed to pick up on what she was thinking. She was remarkably observant like that. “Hey, it’s her old home, right? That’s got to be tough to deal with on top of the whole… well, what happened to her.”

 

Ophilia nodded.

 

“Like, maybe she noticed something that reminded her about her dad, and just needed a little alone time?”

 

Ophilia nodded.

 

Sighing, Tressa decided to stop. As kind as the gesture was, Ophilia really didn’t want to think more about it than she had to. The girl would perk up a few moments later. “How about I go check on her?”

 

“I will,” Revello interjected. “I’ve known her a good many years. Maybe I can help. I won’t be long.”

 

Without another word, Revello went off to check on Primrose. A silence fell over the group once more. Ophilia’s fears were somewhat soothed by the fact someone was going to check on Primrose, but the possibilities of what might be keeping her weighed heavily on her mind.

 

The silence was broken by Revello’s shout. “A HEALER! BY THE TWELVE WE NEED A HEALER!”

 

_ No… _

 

Ophilia was gripped by sudden guilt and terror. She was barely able to move as nausea overtook her body. There was only one reason why Revello would be calling for a healer. As he burst outside the room, carrying Primrose in his arms, Ophilia’s worst fears were confirmed. Even from where she stood, she could see the grievous wound on her stomach, and the blood pouring from it. Her vision of the room around her started to get fuzzy. The voices she heard around her sounded distant.

 

“Prim!” Tressa’s voice called out, filled with concern. “Oh geeze, that looks terrible!”

 

“What fiend did this?!” Olberic’s voice bellowed. “Point me in his direction, and he will face justice!”

 

“No idea…” Revello replied, his voice thick with worry. “I came to check on her, and found her like this. She’s been...”

 

The voices seemed to fade out more and more. Ophilia’s entire body was shaking now, hot tears pouring down her cheeks. It wasn’t fair. Primrose had been through so much, and was only one step away from finishing her journey.  _ What justice is there in her being cut down now? Why of all people did it have to be her? Why the hell couldn’t the twelve have protected her?! No… I can’t blame them… forgive me, Aelfric. I’m the one who failed. I should have stayed with her. I should have been closer to the room. I shouldn’t have ever thought she would have met with Simeon...  I should have protected her… why didn’t I protect her?! _

 

“...philia…”

 

_ What if the reason she didn’t come out with the rest of us is because of me? Why did I have to be so jealous? I pushed her away and now she could be... she could be... _

 

“OPHILIA!” Tressa was shouting, and yanking her by the arm. “Snap out of it!”

 

Ophilia snapped to attention, her vision blurred by tears. “S-sorry, Tressa…”

 

“You don’t need to be sorry to me!” She turned around to face Ophilia. While there was concern in her eyes, it was clear she did not have much in the way of patience. “Olberic went to get Alfyn, but Primrose is hurt really bad! I know you’re freaked out right now, but you at least need to help her until he gets here, okay?”

 

Hearing those words about Primrose was nearly enough to reduce her to a sobbing wreck once more, but she bit the feelings back for now. Even in her current state she knew that Primrose needed her. “O-okay… where is she?”

 

“Here,” Revello called from nearby, beckoning her to come closer

 

Hurrying over, Ophilia was able to see Primrose draped onto the sofa. She was pale from blood loss, her breathing was shallow, and there was that deep wound on her stomach. Blood continued to flow from the wound, pooling onto the ground below. Tearing off a strip from her robes, Ophilia knelt down on the ground and pressed the cloth down hard on the wound, applying pressure as best as her trembling hands could manage.  _ Just like anyone else… you have to treat her just like anyone else. _ She began to whisper, “Aelfric, bringer of flame, make me an instrument of your power. Through your mercy and my hands, let this woman’s wounds be healed.” It was a familiar blessing that seemed so much more desperate now. Just as the other times, though, she could feel warmth and see a glow from her hands. It would linger there for a few moments before fading. When she removed the cloth to examine the wound, it had not closed, but the bleeding had stopped. Primrose’s breathing was still shallow, but it was there. “Primrose… stay with me…” she said, her voice cracking. She would lift her hand up to her lips, kissing it before holding it tightly. She had no idea how long she stayed like that, desperately hoping for some sign of life from her. She had always cared for Primrose, but seeing her like this made her realize how deeply that ran. 

 

"P-please get through this..." She spoke in barely over a whisper. "I need you... I... I love you..." 

 

Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, Ophilia? It’s Alfyn.”

 

Taking a breath and blinking for a bit, she slowly looked back towards him, fully aware of what a mess she must look.

 

He smiled softly and kept his hand on Ophilia’s shoulder. “I was just looking at the work you did already. You did a great job! You probably even saved her life. From the looks of things she probably could have bled out if you weren’t there.”

 

“I....” she sniffled, nodding slowly. “I did my best.”

 

“I know you did.” He smiled a bit wider, pulling his hand away to offer to help her up. Ophilia accepted it. “So, right now we just have to make sure the wound isn’t infected, get Primrose stitched up, and then bring her to some place where she can really rest. I was going to bring her to Revello’s, since it doesn’t have as many people coming and going as the inn. Right now it looks like you need some rest. So-”

 

“I can’t,” Ophilia interrupted. _Not now. Not when she's like this. Not when I need to tell her._ “I can’t just leave her. It’s my fault. I can’t leave. I-”

 

“Hey now.” Alfyn’s voice was gentle, and he held Ophilia by both of her shoulders. The look in his eyes was caring and sympathetic. She could see why he was so well-regarded as an apothecary. “I promise I’m not trying to keep you away from Ophilia. Seeing you in battle, I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” he joked. “You’ve already done a lot, though, and you need to be taking care of yourself, too, okay? I need a bit of space to get her cleaned up and stitched up, but I promise once she’s settled and can have visitors, I’ll come get you right away. Deal?”

 

Ophilia hesitated. The idea of leaving her in this state, even if it was for just a little while, and in good hands, made her ache. She knew deep down, though, that this was the best thing for Primrose. “R-right away?”

 

“Right away.”

 

Ophilia nodded, and hugged Alfyn tightly. “T-thank you...”

 

Though he seemed a bit surprised at first, he quickly returned the hug, seeming to sense just how much Ophilia needed it. “No worries. Everything’s going to be okay, Ophilia.”

 

Ophilia would break from the hug after just a while longer. Looking at Alfyn’s face, she could believe in what he said. “I’ll… I’ll see you soon then?”

 

“See you soon,” Alfyn replied with a smile.

 

Taking one last look at Primrose, and one more shaky breath, Ophilia would leave the manor.

 

\---

 

The next day, Ophilia had already pulled on her boots and was heading for the door when Alfyn arrived to announce that Primrose was awake. She’d have to apologize to him for nearly bowling him over later. Right now the only thing that mattered was Primrose. The moments until she arrived at Revello’s house were a blur, and before long she arrived. Revello was standing outside, greeting Ophilia with a smile. “Welcome. She’s just inside. My wife and I figured we would give the two of you a moment.”

 

“Thank you…” she bowed her head, still short of breath. “Is she okay? Do we know what happened?”

 

“She’s recovering well enough,” he replied, the smile fading from his face. “As for what happened…” He clenched his fist. “It was that bastard Simeon.”

 

“WHAT?!” Ophilia looked like she was about to fall over. “He did this?!”

 

“He did. Showed up while she wanted to be alone, did the deed, and walked right past me as though nothing had happened. If only I had known, he never would have escaped alive.”

 

“It’s not your fault… I don’t think any of us knew that was going to happen…” The swirl of emotions in Ophilia’s head had only become more tempestuous. Thoughts of if the meeting was planned, Primrose’s safety, whether she felt abandoned or not threatened to choke her. “T-thank you for looking after her.”

 

“I should be thanking you,” he replied. “She’s lucky to have people like you. She didn’t tell me much of what happened after she left but what she did…” he sighed. “Like I said. I should be thanking you.”

 

Ophilia just nodded. She didn’t feel like she deserved a lot of thanks right now.

 

“I won’t keep you any more,” he said, the smile returning to his face as he held the door. “She asked for you constantly, you know,”

 

“Oh! Well… well then I won’t keep her waiting! And thank you, again.” Bowing to Revello, she hurried into the home. There, laying on the bed under a blanket was Primrose. Her hair was a complete mess, her face was bare, and she was still somewhat pale, but Ophilia could feel her heart race just the same as if she were watching her perform. She was here, she was alive, and that was the most important thing.

 

“Hey Ophilia.” She smiled. Her voice was weak, but that confidence she always spoke with remained.

 

“Hey Prim…” It took every ounce of willpower in Ophilia’s body to not let herself be overcome with emotions. “I-it’s really good to see you…”

 

“So it seems. You haven’t taken your eyes off me since you’ve arrived.” The smile grew a bit wider. “If you’re gentle I can handle a hug.”

 

Ophilia practically ran to the bed, pulling Primrose into an embrace. Despite her best efforts, she found herself giving into her emotions, sobbing softly into her shoulder. “I w-was so worried Primrose… I spent all night p-praying you would be okay…”

 

“It’s okay,” Primrose whispered, wrapping her arms around her. “I’m okay. I’m here. We’re here.”

 

The two shared their embrace a while longer, until Ophilia’s tears had stopped. Wiping her eyes, she rose to sit on the chair next to the bed, pulling it closer. “Revello t-told me everything that happened.”

 

Primrose nodded, her body tensing up. “I let my guard down. Years pursuing my goal, and one mistake cost me. It won’t happen again.”

 

Ophilia nodded, words escaping her once again.

 

“He was behind the plot all along. I was completely blind to it.”

 

“D-don’t be hard on yourself,” Ophilia said softly. “W-when you r-really care about someone… sometimes you miss things.” She looked down. “I s-should have been there. I should have kept you safe. I could have healed you sooner.”

 

“Stop that.” Primrose had turned to her, her hand beneath Ophilia’s chin to tilt her head up. “Alfyn told me you’re the reason you didn’t bleed out. Besides all that… I know I did little to reassure you about us. About what was happening with Simeon and I.”

 

“N-no!” Ophilia replied suddenly, surprised at the volume of her own voice. “I should have trusted you… I-I should have talked to you before we left, b-but I didn’t! You didn’t do anything wrong. I w-was just so jealous…”

 

A long silence passed between the two. “Ophilia… I should explain.Before I do, you need to know that no matter what, I won’t lie to you. You deserve far more than that.”

 

Ophilia felt like she was about to start crying all over again. “O-Okay...:”

 

“I did love Simeon. I doubt any girl in my position wouldn’t have fallen in love with the man. He was handsome to the point a look from him was all it took to reduce any woman to giggles and blushes.. He was sweet and sensitive. He wrote and read poetry. Young and foolish as I was, he treated me as though I were as mature and sophisticated as a woman grown. He had a way to make a walk in the garden feel special and unique, no matter how many times I traced that path. He was the kind of man you only read about in stories… and growing up I was lucky enough for that to be my actual life.” She closed her eyes. “I am loathe to admit it, but speaking with him again, it had reminded me of why I had fallen in love with him in the first place so long ago.”

 

Ophilia gripped her robe tightly, able to offer no other response to a nod. She felt the prick of tears in the corner of her eyes  How was she supposed to respond to something like that?

 

“Talking with him… I felt that I was beneath him.. He remained this perfect gentleman...and what had my life become? I was a whore who subjected myself to all manner of indignity for the opportunity for vengeance. To become a killer. What would he possibly think of me if he knew?” Primrose’s voice hitched just enough for Ophilia to pick up on it. “It was then I came to a realization.”

 

“W-w-what?”

 

“As real as my feelings were, and as good as it felt to be reminded of those feelings, it was a child’s conception of love. Infatuation not tested by any sort of hardship. Never going deeper than the surface.” Primrose looked straight into Ophilia’s eyes. “As it turns out the truth was so much worse. The love he showed me… no more than an attempt by a man to prey upon a child and get my guard down. It hurt so much to realize that, to understand just how stupid and naive I was. How the object of my thoughts for so many years had only built an illusion.” Primrose’s voice had grown cold and bitter as she continued, only softening when she reached the end. “Yet even before what he did… I could not escape the thought that he might have seen me differently had he known what I had been through. Nor could I escape the knowledge that he did not attempt to find me, and did not walk with me in my most difficult times. As ready as he was to welcome me back… he knew the girl I was. Not the woman I had become. So as happy as seeing him again made me, our meeting was never beyond that. A meeting, and a reminder.”

 

“Primrose…” Ophilia placed her hand atop hers. The pangs of guilt grew stronger and stronger, but she kept silent for now.

 

“I thought of you… and you never once gave me reason to believe you saw me as less for what I had done. What I was forced to do. What I still sought to do. You saw all of that, and embraced me still. You fought alongside me, kept me safe, and comforted me. The worst struggles in my life, and it was you who was there for me.” she took a breath. “Simeon was everything I was taught to want. To love. There are far less stories about women who fall and find love at their lowest. Let alone find it with another woman.” She entwined her fingers with Ophilia’s. “Sometimes that’s how the story unfolds, though. I know mine did.”

 

“J-just w-what are you s-s-saying?” Ophilia could barely breathe, let alone speak. She was only just able to register Primrose holding her hand.

 

A hint of a smile crossed Primrose’s lips. “It ruins the mystique if I don’t let you figure some things out on your own.”

 

“Maybe I w-want to hear you say it.”

 

There was that warm, genuine smile. This time for Ophilia. “All right. I… I love you, Ophilia Clement,”

 

Ophilia was tearing up yet again. “Y-you mean it?”

 

“I told you at the beginning I wouldn’t lie to you. Yes. I mean it. With all my heart.”

 

“I… I-I love you too!” Ophilia quickly leaned in to kiss Primrose, deeply and passionately. It didn’t take long before she felt Primrose’s arms drape around her neck, pulling her down further and deepening the kiss. In that moment all her worries, guilt, and jealousy had melted away, leaving only the truth that Primrose loved her. Ophilia could scarcely curse herself for taking so long to realize it she was so consumed with the feeling.

 

Pulling from the kiss, Primrose spoke as if on cue, giving voice to those feelings. “I think I needed to see Simeon to realize it. To remember what I thought love was, so I could see what it really is.”

 

“Me too…” Ophilia replied softly, her hands caressing Primrose’s face. The feelings of love and warmth had completely calmed the raging sea that had been her mind, and there on the shore was Primrose.  _ Her _ Primrose.

 

“You need to know it won’t be easy. Or get any easier.” Primrose began. “I am more determined than ever to see my father avenged. When I find Simeon again, he will die, and he will suffer before he does.” Her voice was tinted with that steely determination that was there whenever she spoke of her goals. “Whatever darkness is in me, I will go deeper, I will use it to fulfill my mission, and I will not be deterred from it. Once it’s done… I still don’t know what will become of me. Or if I’ll even be able to get back out of it.”

 

“Then let me be the light that guides your way back,” Ophilia said, resting her forehead against Primrose’s. “I’m not going anywhere, and I never will.”

 

“Then I won’t either.”

 

As their lips met again, the two knew there were still many steps ahead in their journey, and many more hardships. If they had survived their greatest test thus far, though, they knew they could survive whatever else came before them.


End file.
